ferty, for 'fraid the dinner might come
short, went home and made another pudden much about the same size as the
one that had escaped, an' bringin' it over to their next neighbour,
Paddy Scanlan's, it was put into a pot, and placed on the fire to boil,
hopin' that it might be done in time, espishilly as they were to have
the ministher, who loved a warm slice of a good pudden as well as e'er a
gentleman in Europe.

"Anyhow, the day passed; Moll and Gusty were made man an' wife, an' no
two could be more lovin'. Their friends that had been asked to the
weddin' were saunterin' about in pleasant little groups till
dinner-time, chattin' an' laughin'; but above all things, sthrivin' to
account for the figaries of the pudden; for, to tell the truth, its
adventures had now gone through the whole parish.

"Well, at any rate, dinner-time was drawin' near, and Paddy Scanlan was
sittin' comfortably wid his wife at the fire, the pudden boilin' before
their eyes, when in walks Harry Connolly in a flutter, shoutin', 'Blood
and blunderbushes, what are yez here for?'

"'Arrah, why, Harry--why, avick?' said Mrs. Scanlan.

"'Why,' said Harry, 'the sun's in the suds, an' the moon in the high
Horricks! Here's a clipstick comin' on, an' there you sit as unconsarned
as if it was about to rain mether! Go out, both of you, an' look at the
sun, I say, an' ye'll see the condition he's in--off!'

"'Ay, but, Harry, what's that rowled up in the tail of your cothamore
(big coat)?'

"'Out wid yez,' says Harry, 'an' pray aginst the clipstick--the sky's
fallin'!'

"Begad, it was hard to say whether Paddy or the wife got out first, they
were so much alarmed by Harry's wild, thin face and piercin' eyes; so
out they went to see what was wonderful in the sky, an' kep lookin' an'
lookin' in every direction, but not a thing was to be seen, barrin' the
sun shinin' down wid great good-humour, an' not a single cloud in the
sky.

"Paddy an' the wife now came in laughin' to scould Harry, who no doubt
was a great wag in his way when he wished. 'Musha, bad scran to you,
Harry----' and they had time to say no more, howandiver, for, as they
were goin' into the door, they met him comin' out of it, wid a reek of
smoke out of his tail like a lime-kiln.

"'Harry,' shouted Bridget, 'my sowl to glory, but the tail of your
cothamore's afire--you'll be burned. Don't you see the smoke that's out
of it?'

"'Cross yourselves three times,' said Harry, widout stoppin'